Perhaps it was because the air pouring out of the room was too cold, Gu Jianian shivered for no reason: "I... well, my grandma asked me to bring some snacks."
"Your grandmother?"
"My grandmother's name is Meng Yiqing, and she lives over there."
Gu Jianian obediently pointed in the direction of his grandmother's house.
The terrain here is high. Looking down to the river from the mountainside, you can see my grandmother's gray-brown two-story brick house.
The man looked in the direction she pointed.
After a long time, he frowned and looked at her again, and his perfunctory gaze finally took the time to look at her face.
Seems to be identifying something.
About half a minute later, just when Gu Jianian wanted to back out, he finally looked away.
The man casually put out the cigarette butt on the door frame.
Then he moved to the side in slow motion, as if reluctantly making room for her.
"Come in, take off your shoes."
His voice was hoarse, but his tone was oppressive.
Gu Jianian did as he was told unconsciously, took off his shoes outside the door and walked in barefoot.
The windows were all covered by curtains, and there was no light in the house. The dim view and the cold floor stimulated her sense of touch and vision. The disappearing sense of security made her feel inexplicably nervous, and she subconsciously took a step back.
At that moment, a "click" sound came from the side, and the light suddenly came on, illuminating the entire room.
Gu Jianian looked inside.
The decoration style inside the house was consistent with the exterior of the building, which reminded her of the classic European movies she had seen before.
It’s just, so messy.
Seven or eight empty light brown wine bottles were lying in a mess at the entrance, and discarded manuscript papers were thrown everywhere on the floor. The dense blue-black ink marks on them seemed to be shouting out the despair of being abandoned.
On a walnut sideboard at the door that looked a bit old were two potted plants that had long since died, with shriveled yellow leaves drooping, giving the plants a derelict look.
In the entrance hall is a high-ceilinged hall that leads directly to the dome, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging in the air like a lonely person.
The windows on both sides are covered with opaque dark curtains, blocking out the heat and sunlight outside.
Gu Jianian's gaze was involuntarily attracted to the walls of the hall, and his pupils dilated like a conditioned reflex the moment he saw the scene.
Lots and lots of books.
So many that it's hard to find the right adjective.
—The three walls that went straight to the roof were filled with heavy wooden bookshelves, so tall that they surrounded the entire hall, as if they were blocking out the sun. The bookshelves were roughly piled with messy books, crisscrossed horizontally and vertically, and packed layer by layer like a row of honeycombs.
Gu Jianian's eyes briefly swept across the spines of the books, which were in Chinese, English, and many languages she didn't recognize, such as Latin.
Under the bookshelf is a huge desk of the same color, with scattered books piled on one side and a laptop on the other.
The rest of the space was filled with manuscripts covered in blue and black handwriting.
Solid wood chairs, a black fireplace, and a makeshift wine rack filled with half-empty bottles.
And the ashtrays are filled with cigarette butts.
All kinds of messy elements crowded into his eyes. Gu Jianian held his breath, and his heart suddenly beat abnormally for a few times.